31 Mar 2011

As he tried to compose a sonnet for his lady love, the overwhelming smell from the ripe cheese stopped him with pen raised. How could he think romantic thoughts when his supper invaded his nostrils? It was meant to invade his stomach, along with a crusty baguette and a glass or two of red wine!

I search to find which words to say
to cloak ideas that I have found
and wish to share without delay,
for in my mind the dreams abound.

They fill my head and whirl around,
they laugh at me, and come what may,
I search to find which words to say
to cloak ideas that I have found.

And so I struggle every day
until my temples start to pound
as thoughts entrap me with their sound
and tantalise in every way...
I search to find which words to say
to cloak ideas that I have found.

One Stop Poetryis ecouraging us to explore the Rondel poetic form, so here is my somewhat lighthearted offering!And Rondel is the topic here as well, at Inside My Poem Book! I've also linked to The Poetry Pantry - sort of buy two get one free?

25 Mar 2011

I live far from New York, I agree,
but what those two words mean to me
is standing on risers,
singing for prize(r)s
that we hoped to win with our song.New York was a medley, and long...

For my part, I sang Baritone,
but then, I was never alone.
Leads, Tenors and Basses
with smiles on their faces
would see who could get to the end
without any need to pretend
they'd remembered the words
and sung sweet as the birds...
no wrong notes... heaven forefend!
That'd upset our Babershop Blend!

Brian Miller, from One Stop Poetry, brought the words 'New York' to the forefront of my mind when he asked for poems to be written about that very city. I immediately had a flash back to my Babershopping days, when a medley of songs with multiple key changes challenged the chorus to keep in pitch from beginning to end.

24 Mar 2011

The sight of her dying bouquet was too much to contemplate. After the debacle at the church, she’d rushed home, wallowing in a bout of self pity, sadness, but eventually anger. Now, emotion spent, she longed for cool. Still wearing her wedding dress, she joined the spider’s webs that swung gently in the morning mist.

If you read the rules of Thursday Tales, you can submit stories of 55 to 777 words, then visit others who have joined in the fun!

18 Mar 2011

My being is transparent, but draws to itself
the living colours of Spring. Light and life
reflect within my soul their pastel beauty.
Edges soften, colours merge together.
I am replete; their nourishment feeds
each particle of my liquid form. I exist.

The Poetry Bus Driver, Uiscebot, this week asked us to go to a new place, and write a non-rhyming poem from there. I went into a drop of water!

13 Mar 2011

A satellite bleeps out its sound
but there is nobody around
to heed its warning.

As the planet spins below -
see? - Shining silver forests grow!
The day is dawning.

But the people are now gone.
Because of all that they had done,
plant life is mourning.

This was sparked by the Themed Thursday subject -'Space'- I used the space betwen my ears to come up with an offering! LOLThe same inner space produced the following sonnet, which, if you visit Hilary at The Smitten Image, has the perfect photo to accompany it.

Together At Day's End

Everything stills as dusk approaches. Light
takes on a sullen hue and clouds gather
forces, ready to battle with the night.
Standing on shore, we two wonder whether
darkness will come between us, draw a veil
over our present joy, shroud it in mist
before morning, once the sky blushes pale
and the shy face of heaven makes a tryst
with daylight. But at this day's end, we find
perfection and peace. One beside the other
in silence we gaze, as though a greater mind
had suddenly taught us how we might discover
duality within a single being, an entity
newly birthed, but already linked with eternity.

7 Mar 2011

The painting dominated the whole wall. To Tom's young eyes it spoke of dolphins and whales, splashing in waves, playing exactly the way he did with his friends in the swimming pool. He studied it carefully, admiring the graceful curves and colours on the canvas.
Then he noticed a strange sensation creeping through his body - his arms and legs were turning into flippers and a tail! Suddenly, he was cavorting in the ocean too, a marine creature just like one of them. He raced through the water, leaped high in the air then dived down, down, down into the blue green deeps...
"Tom, Tom! Wake up, son. Breakfast is ready! "

Once again, thanks to Willow and her photoprompt, I had fun with Magpie Tales!

With your head in a book
as you take a look
at pictures and words
(serious or absurd)
you'll find ideas grow,
spread out in a row
like tendrils. Pale green
ones I mean!
See how they've grown
from seeds that were sown!
(As you take a look,
with your head in a book!)

With World Book Day barely off the shelf, how appropriate for Monday's Child to use Lissa's illustration this week! Who doesn't like reading in bed?

5 Mar 2011

The Stammering Poet, Peter Goulding is going to be in the driving seat on Monday, and for my ticket I've attempted to write a kind of Rondeau though I'm not too sure if the metre is supposed to be as flexible as mine is! Anyhow, the rhyme scheme is as it should be - what more do you want - blood?!

Shrove Tuesday Cometh

Pancake day is fun! You must agree
whether they're for breakfast lunch or tea
both old and young enjoy a feast
of one or two at very least -
or maybe even three!

Imagine you can see
a hungry family -
an empty tummied beast...
Pancake day is fun!

I'm glad I learned to cook at mother's knee
this tried and trusted favourite recipe.
It doesn't include any yeast
or fragrant spices from the East,
only plenty love, for you from me!
Pancake day is fun!